-1Disclaimer: 'Law and Order: Criminal Intent' and all its characters belong to Dick Wolf. Not me. : ( - Madison Rae Thompson © Me
A/N: I think this story will be fun to write. I just have to stick with it. Reviews always help. : )
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Murder, He Wrote // Chapter 2: Her Story
"My name is Madison Rae Thompson," she began, shifting more comfortably in the seat. Her blood soaked clothes had been replaced by an ancient NYPD sweatshirt and gray sweatpants that Alex had managed to scrounge up from her locker. "Last night, I woke up. I'm not sure what woke me up, but I was up and I wanted a drink of water. In order to get to the kitchen, I have to pass by my parents room. I didn't think of checking on them, I never do, but when I walked past their room there was this smell. This horrible smell that was so strong it had me looking into the bedroom. And there they were."
Her breath caught in her throat, but she continued. "My dad was already dead. He was lying on the floor beside the bed and I looked over to see my mom. The man had her. He was killing her. He just kept stabbing her, over and over. She didn't scream, he had her mouth covered with his hand. I watched for a moment, then ran away. I hid in the closet, I think. I'm not sure. But I waited there for the longest time, the sun was just coming up when I finally came out. I went into their bedroom and I just sat there, yelling for them to wake up. But they didn't. They couldn't." She felt the tears prick behind her eyes, but they didn't fall. She'd already cried enough. "I left. I ran and ran until I couldn't run anymore. And I ended up here. I knew this was a good place, a safe place to be. My dad told me that when I was young."
They sat across from her, their pens frozen in their hands, their mouths slightly agape as they listened to what she had to say. Bobby finally moved, dropped the pen and scrubbed a hand over his face. He stared at her and she stared back. He said, "Who did this, Madison?"
"I don't know. A man," Madison replied quietly as she dropped her hands into her lap.
Bobby looked over to his partner, nodded, and the two stood. "We'll be back. Just stay here."
"Good Christ," Alex said once Bobby had shut the door. The air outside of the room was much thinner, much easier to breath. She looked down at the notebook in her hand, read the address that was scribbled on it aloud. She then turned to her partner and said, "Let's go check it out, then."
---
The door to the Thompson's small townhouse stood ajar. With a CSU team behind them, Bobby and Alex entered the home and studied the new surroundings. "No signs of burglary," Alex commented as she stared at the pricey furniture and art. She motioned to one of the CSUs. "Check the front door for fingerprints." She then directed her speech to her partner. "Maybe the killer left behind some prints."
"Not likely." Bobby rounded the corner, and ran into the invisible wall he knew would be there. Madison was right, the smell was horrible and eye-watering strong. "Found the bedroom, Eames," he called back to his partner as he entered the room that once belonged to William and Anne Thompson.
Their bodies were strewn in their own blood. The husband and father laid closest to the door, his dark eyes wide and glazed over with death. His arm was stretched out, as if trying to reach for the woman who laid a few feet from him. The largely pregnant, and now dead, wife and mother was crumpled in the floor at the base of their bed, her mouth placed in a permanent scream. Bobby blew out a sharp breath of air, snapped on a pair of gloves and got to work.
He heard Alex enter a few minutes later and hiss through her teeth. A moment passed and then she was at his side, kneeling over the female victim. "It looks like they both bled to death. I can't be sure, though." He rounded to the male, motioned her over. "There's hesitation marks," he said as he pointed to a group of wounds that weren't quite as deep as the others.
"So the killer wasn't sure how hard to stab. An amateur?" Alex inquired.
"Maybe. We'll have to find out." Bobby then pushed himself up, pointed to the trail of blood that lead to a separate room within the bedroom. "Killer washed up. We'll have to get the drains checked and get a team to search dumpsters. Killer might have ditched his clothes."
Alex nodded, rose to stand beside her partner. "He's leaving behind too many leads," she commented and turned to walk away from death.
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Madison was in the same room when they returned, in her hand was a pencil and on the table in front of her was a piece of paper. When Bobby opened the door, her pale blue gaze shot up to meet his brown ones. He smiled politely and pulled a seat up next to her. "What'cha drawing?"
She jerked her chin up, pointing through the glass windows of the room and out to one of the detectives. He looked down at the piece of paper on the table. Roughly sketched onto it was the pretty face of Detective Megan Wheeler. Bobby nodded and said, "That's pretty good. Her name's Megan Wheeler, in case you wanted to know."
"She and that guy have been arguing the entire time I've been here." She pointed to the large man seated in the desk across from her. Bobby chuckled.
"That's Detective Mike Logan. Him and Megan argue a lot. You like to draw?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"I saw some of your drawings at your house. They're nice."
"You went to my house?" Her gaze dropped to the pencil in her hand.
"I had to. Procedure." He explained.
"I know." She sighed, dropped the pencil and crossed her arms over her chest. "Am I a coward for running away?" she asked. "Should I have stayed and tried to help them?"
"No. If you did, you'd be dead too."
"At least I wouldn't be here," she snapped back, glared up at him. "At least I wouldn't be here without a family. I'd be with them."
Bobby bit down hard on his tongue, leaned forward. "And would your parents have wanted that? Would they have wanted you to die or would they have wanted you to live and help find their killer?"
Madison glared at him for another moment, then pulled her legs to her chest and rested her head on her knees. "They would have wanted me to help them."
---
"She's very stubborn, but she wants to help," Bobby told his partner once settled behind his desk. "She wants to be strong, but it's hard."
"I could only imagine what it would be like seeing my parents murdered. But shouldn't she be like. . . traumatized or something?" she questioned.
"Everyone shows it differently. Some people may express their feelings through anger, others keep it bottled up inside. I think Madison has already released it all. She knows what's happened and she's trying her best to deal." he explained, and looked up as a figure approached their desks.
"Okay, detectives," Ross said, pulling up a chair beside their desks. "Tell me what you know."
Bobby straightened and reported. Once finished, Ross nodded, folded his hands and leaned back against the chair. "What about the girl? Could she have done it?"
"Are you serious?" Alex snapped, her brow furrowing.
"You said the mother was pregnant. Maybe after fourteen years of non-stop attention, she got jealous of the thought of a new kid in the house and killed them in a fit of rage."
"How could a girl so little take down her father, a man that was at least twice her size?" Alex asked angrily.
"Don't rule anything out, detective. I want physical proof that she didn't do it." Ross rose and stalked away.
"The nerve," Alex hissed and turned to Bobby, who shook his head and stared down at his paperwork.
---
Bobby slid back into the room half an hour later with a bag of fast food. He slipped a burger and some fries in Madison's direction while he opened his own food. They ate in silence until the brunette decided to speak, "What's going to happen to me?"
Bobby sat down the hamburger. Slowly, deliberately. "Well, you'll stay here until a member of your family comes to claim you."
"You say that like I'm some piece of merchandise," Madison replied with a scowl.
The man rolled his eyes, shook his head. "That's not what I meant and you know it." He paused to sigh. "A member of your family will come and get you."
"And what if no one comes and gets me?"
"Well, we'll have to deal with that if it happens." Bobby leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his broad chest. "Now eat, I know you're hungry."
---
Madison jerked awake a few minutes past midnight. She stared around at the other empty cots in the large room some of the NYPD detectives used as a place to crash after a hard day and pulled the thin quilt she had been given over her body. She laid back down, trying to clear her mind of the nightmare that still scratched and screamed there. With a sigh, she closed her eyes again.
But didn't sleep.
